[Intro – Dark electric piano, gritty bass riff, distant gospel harmonies] **[Weston Hayes – Low, smoky, almost whispered]** Mmm, yeah... Everybody wants a little salvation Till they see what it costs [Verse 1 – Weston Hayes, gritty rhythmic soul vocal, tight bass groove] I got a Bible in the back of my Chevrolet A couple bad habits I can't throw away Mama said the devil's got a pretty face Guess that's why I keep inviting him to stay I've been down where the good don't go Made a few deals that nobody knows Had my back to the wall, my hands in the dirt Learned real quick what a dollar's worth [Pre-Chorus – Weston Hayes, rising tension, gospel harmonies] Don't you tell me how to live When you ain't seen where I've been Everybody's got a stone to throw Till the truth comes rolling in [Chorus – Weston Hayes, explosive soulful belts, huge drums and bass] AIN'T NO SAINTS LEFT IN THIS TOWN! Everybody's got a secret buried underground Everybody wants heaven, nobody wants hell Everybody's got a story they don't wanna tell Oh, you can point your finger, you can call me a fool But I ain't throwing stones from a house like you Go on, judge me, baby, ring that bell Ain't no saints left, ain't no saints left! [Post-Chorus – Funky bass riff, soulful vocal chants] Oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh Ain't no saints left Oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh And we ain't done yet! [Verse 2 – Weston Hayes, swaggering soulful delivery, blues guitar accents] I knew a preacher with a pocket full of gold And a working man who gave away his coat Funny how the world gets turned around The quiet ones are the ones who hold it down I ain't claiming that my hands are clean I've done some things I wish I hadn't seen But I paid my dues, and I earned these scars You don't get to tell me who we are [Pre-Chorus – Weston Hayes, building into rap transition] Don't you tell me how to live When you ain't walked where I've been Everybody's got a stone to throw Till the truth comes rolling in [Chorus – Weston Hayes, full-band soul hook] AIN'T NO SAINTS LEFT IN THIS TOWN! Everybody's got a secret buried underground Everybody wants heaven, nobody wants hell Everybody's got a story they don't wanna tell Oh, you can point your finger, you can call me a fool But I ain't throwing stones from a house like you Go on, judge me, baby, ring that bell Ain't no saints left, ain't no saints left! [Instrumental Break – Drums switch to dusty boom-bap groove, bass stays heavy, Rhodes piano enters, DJ scratches] [Rap Verse – Tomato Mane ONLY, deep confident male rap voice, precise rhythmic flow, no singing] Look— They want a clean slate, I came with the chalk dust Hands full of hard work, pockets full of lost trust Everybody righteous when the spotlight's on 'em Funny how the truth gets quiet when the night falls on 'em I seen a good man fold over bills he couldn't pay Seen a bad man smile while he took a life away Not with a pistol, with a pen and a signature Suit and a handshake, tell me who the sinner was See, I don't need a halo, I need room to breathe Need a little more truth and a little less make-believe They put a price on peace, then they sell it by the piece Got a city full of judges, not a soul that's been released I got dirt on my boots, got a debt to my past Got a couple broken promises I couldn't make last But I stand on my word, I don't bend for applause If the whole world's guilty, who the hell makes the laws? [Rap Outro – Tomato Mane, beat drops to bass and drums] Yeah... Everybody got a verdict Nobody got a mirror [Bridge – Weston Hayes, stripped piano and organ, emotional vocal] If there's a place for the broken If there's mercy for the lost Then save a seat for the sinners Who already paid the cost I ain't asking you to save me I ain't asking to be clean Just don't tell me I'm the devil When you don't know what I've seen [Final Chorus – Weston Hayes, huge soulful vocal, gospel choir, full-band explosion] AIN'T NO SAINTS LEFT IN THIS TOWN! Everybody's got a secret buried underground Everybody wants heaven, nobody wants hell Everybody's got a story they don't wanna tell! Oh, you can point your finger, you can call me a fool But I ain't throwing stones from a house like you Go on, judge me, baby, ring that bell AIN'T NO SAINTS LEFT, AIN'T NO SAINTS LEFT! [Outro – Weston Hayes soulful ad-libs, Tomato Mane spoken response] **[Weston – Singing]** Oh, ain't no saints left... **[Tomato Mane – Spoken]** Never said we were. **[Weston – Singing]** Ain't no saints left in this town... [End – Single bass note, abrupt stop]
